Friday, April 25, 2014

White Jeans 3

More than an hour remained before I had to go to work. Kendra and I were on the couch in my apartment. Earlier I had promised her a good fucking and I still meant to keep that promise.
I had recovered from the ball-draining blowjob she had performed on me earlier in the evening and, well, there was still time before I had to rush out the door to get over to the radio station for my overnight shift.

Kendra was reading one of the magazines from the stack she had brought in from her car. I'd watched a TV show, shut the TV off, played some albums, and read a copy of Sport magazine and a couple back issues of Billboard. By now she was reclined, her head propped up on an arm of the sofa with her legs in those tight white jeans across my lap.

I stood up, lifting her legs like raising a draw bridge as I rose. She lowered the magazine and looked at me as I held her legs together at the ankles. I pulled her slowly a few inches along the couch until her head was on the cushion and not the arm. She dropped her Vogue to the floor and helped me scooch her down the couch a little ways. She was flat on her back from her waist to her head but I was holding her legs together and straight up so she formed a forty-five degree angle. I held her legs up while I slipped off her Candie's high-heels and dropped them to the floor.

I started to tug at her white jeans. She got the idea and unbuttoned and then unzipped them. As I pulled the pant legs up she pushed the waistband down over her hips and past her beautiful bottom.
"I was right," I said.
"About what?"
"I was sure you weren't wearing any panties."
Kendra laughed. "Now how did ya know that, Mr. Wilson?" she said in her soft, sweet accent.
"I followed you up the stairs. I could tell."
I tossed her white jeans across the room and swung her legs over so she'd sit up as I sat down next to her.

"Lose the top," I said.
"Well, yesss sirrr!" she said with a grin.
She tossed the red halter over near the jeans.
Kendra wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. She was however wearing makeup, perfume, and jewelry. Looking at her was giving me a throbbing boner.

"Put on those shoes and walk over to that wall, turn around and walk straight back to here," I said.
I was pointing to a spot on the floor right in front of where I was sitting on the sofa.
This time there was no giggle, grin, or smart reply.
She slipped on her heels and walked quickly across the room, turned around, and after a few steps she was standing right in front of me. I was looking straight at her trimmed blonde bush-- not as blonde as the hair on her head-- but blonde, dirty blonde. I didn't look up at her face.

"When you look at all those fashion magazines do you ever see stuff in there that you would wear?"
"Well, yeah, sure... some things, yeah."
"OK," I said, "imagine that you are wearing something from a magazine that you think looks great on you."

I sat back.

"Do you have an outfit in mind, Kendra?"
"Umm, yeah, OK. Should I describe it to you?"
"No. Turn around."
Now her perfect, round bottom was in front of my face. I fought back the urge to grab it.
"You have that great outfit on. Now, walk across the room, turn, and walk back to me. The last time you almost ran across and back because you were naked and self-concious. But now you want everybody to see how great you look... so... walk over, turn, and come back."

This time she took her time. Her posture was perfect, her arms swung just right. As she walked back her firm 36D's jiggled just the right amount. There wasn't a square inch of this teen princess that I would change.
"You should always carry yourself like that. People notice. You look confident and that's good."
I looked up at her.
"Now, walk confidently over to that chair and wait for me."

All of my furniture was either stuff I'd scrounged from relatives or bought at used shops once I moved into this unfurnished apartment. One of the pieces I had was a big, wide, beat-up dark brown leather chair. Today one would say that it was distressed leather with a great patina but I just thought of it as a worn-out comfortable chair that I got cheap. The chair sat against the wall across from the couch and next to my little 19" B&W TV. My buddy Moe would come over on Sundays to watch sports. He'd sprawl across the chair, bitch about the fact that my TV was small and not color, and drink my beer. He thought the chair looked like a giant catcher's mitt. Moe lived with his parents so the alternative was watching a color TV at their house. We usually opted for my place. I saw a lot less of Moe on Sundays now that I was seeing a lot more of Kendra.

Kendra was facing the big chair and I walked up behind her. I reached around and cupped her left breast with my left hand while I got my right hand down to her pussy. She pushed her ass back against me. My lips were next to her right ear. I asked her if she could feel my hard cock against her ass. She moaned softly and moved her head up and down. My fingers had found her wet slit. I pinched her nipple as I gently rubbed around her clit. I pushed her forward and she got on the chair-- her knees on the seat cushion her left hand on the seat back her right on the arm of the chair. I unbuckled, dropped my zipper, pulled out my stiff dick and slid into her tight box. She dropped her shoulders down lower than her hips so I could drive it all the way in. She moaned loud and long as I ground it into her before starting to jackhammer away at her snatch.

Because of the earlier blowjob I was was able to ride her a long time. I smacked her ass while I slammed into her. After her cheeks were warm and red I spit on my left thumb and pushed it an inch or two into her virgin, tight little asshole. She threw her head back and bucked wildly but I kept my thumb in there good and tight and kept rammin' hard cock into her. Suddenly her pussy got much wetter-- she had gushed all over my dick. I didn't let up.

At one point I noticed that the dark TV screen was kinda like a fun house mirror. I could see her face-- eyes closed, lips parted, hair flying with every thrust. Kendra was a very loud fuck that night. Probably the loudest I've ever heard her and over the years I've fucked her hundreds and hundreds of times. She was really letting everything go.

Kendra wasn't aware that the windows were open and anyone in the parking lot below could hear her getting her brains fucked out. She would've cared about that. I didn't.

When we were done I needed to go to work. I told her she was free to stay all night but that she needed to call her parents so they didn't worry about where she was. Her folks knew that I'd be at work anyway.
"I may rest up a bit but I'll drive home later, OK."
"Sure. Whatever you want to do. You're free to stay. I'll be home from work around 7AM. If you stay I'm going to fuck you again as soon as I get home."
"I better go home. You're an animal!" she said with a big grin.

There was a note from Kendra waiting for me when I got back to the apartment."It's about an hour after you went to work now and I'm heading for home. You wore me out, Mr. Wilson. Ten times-- I lost count but I think-- 10 times. Is it OK if I fall in love with you? See you Thursday night."-KPS- I can't wait.